


Hypophrenia-The Feeling of Sadness Without Cause

by Sei_The_God



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Rape, Okay Not Really, aoba being depressed, if you dont like ViTri dont read this, if you dont like depressed aoba dont read this, k thx bai, mentions of ViTri, ren abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3510761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sei_The_God/pseuds/Sei_The_God
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba's been saved from Virus and Trip, and he's back to a somewhat normal lifestyle. But he's far from happy. Everything is gray. Dull, even. And there's not a cure for Hypophrenia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hypophrenia-The Feeling of Sadness Without Cause

**Author's Note:**

> Heeyyyyy long time no seeeee  
> plz enjoy  
> k thx bai

I sit up. Ren is at my side, curled up. I look around at the colors that span my room. 

It's so gray.

My Brain Nuts jacket is a million tones of gray and black, where there should have been lively blues and yellows and pinks. The wallpaper is the color of a dark cloud. Even Ren's fluffy blue fur is the darkest shade of black.   
I just woke up from a nightmare. Again. Living with two crazy people in their black and white house for two years doesn't really help one's mentality. Even now I can feel his hand on me, crawling over my skin, and his accomplice puts himself into my-  
I stop thinking about it. But it's so hard to forget.

I walk downstairs halfheartedly, Ren soon following. I don't bother to turn him on anymore. He comes once he realizes that I’ve left and he doesn't question it. Granny is already downstairs. I smell something sweet, the incredible scent hitting my nose and waking up my stomach. It doesn't make me as excited as it used to, though.  
Granny turns to look at me, flashing me a short smile. She doesn't really yell at me anymore. She gives me smiles and food and tells me happy things.

I don't feel happy though.

I sit at the table and sigh. Granny lays a basket of doughnuts before me and mutters a quiet, “Help yourself,” before scuttling into her room. I grab a small bundle of warmth from the basket and slowly bring it to my mouth.

If you eat, they'll punish you.

I want to eat it. I've missed cramming these down my throat three at a time. And I'm starving. But…

They'll hurt you.  
I set it back down and lean my arm on the table, propping my head up in my hand. Always, those thoughts come and stop me from living. It fucking sucks.   
Ren looks up to me and jumps into my lap.

“Owba,” he says, “you seem upset. Are you well? Ill?”

I'm not sure how to respond. I could be both or neither of those things. But really all I feel is…

“I'm just sad.” I stand up, and Ren tumbles from my lap. I could care less. That's what it is. Why everything is so dull. I'm sad.

I don't even have a reason anymore. Not since Akushima got forced by the Midorijima Missing Persons Department to call out a huge search for me. I still recall that I was in a ball on the ground, bound at the ankles and wrist, semen and sweat covering my body. I was so terrified when I heard that slamming on the door. But the relief that flooded me was so immense. Koujaku and Noiz, Clear and even Mink. All of them surrounding me with sincere looks of sorrow (this being rare from Noiz and especially Mink). Even that filthy fucked up cop looked at me with remorse and dread. So many happy faces stared at me when I got home, and they sympathized and celebrated my safe return. 

I couldn't be more depressed. 

I have nightmares every night about them. Especially Trip. That man liked to drag sharp blades over my chest and listen to me begging him to stop. Sometimes I wished it would go deep enough to kill me. I'd wake up grabbing at my chest and hoping it was over. Nothing makes me smile. If I smile, I get hurt. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't dream. I can't break myself. I can't fight. I can't speak. I can't move. I can't breathe.

It's been drilled into my head, and its made me a good servant. A willing slave and pet.  
I go into the bathroom, and lock the door. I stare at the sink. I don't want to see whatever terrible thing I might've become. I already looked terrible when I last stared into the mirror in Trip's bedroom, right before I was attacked and paw-fucked by a lion. However, try as I might, the mirror forces me to stare into it.  
I notice the smallest things now. A cut on my cheek. A strand of hair that used to be there that probably got pulled out. How horrifyingly skinny I am. I can see my ribs through my shirt. And my eyes seem so lifeless. My mouth slowly opens in horror. I scream.

It takes a moment before Granny's knocked down the door and nearly pulled me to the floor in an embrace.   
“I'm here with you,” she mutters, over and over, and glares at the mirror, trying to understand my panic.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I can feel the tears threatening me.   
No...I don't want to break down again...not in front of her…

It's easier said than done. The horror and feeling of being trapped consumes me, and I cling to Granny's dress.  
“T-They wouldn't let me leave,” I stuttered, not able to control myself. “He pushed me on the bed and I screamed and I cried and he...he...he just...” The tears overflow before I can finish.  
I don't want to see Granny's expression. I'm sure I've upset her now. I'm a burden. A twenty three year old man, weeping like a child into his grandmother's shoulder. 

Any splash of color is gray. All of it. It's all turned one monotone and it's making me crazy. When i'm not just sad, I'm weeping, washing out the beautiful colors of what once was my world. But it's over. It's been over for a while. I shouldn't be like this anymore. I should be at work. I should be hitting up Black Needle with Koujaku. I should be playing Pokemon with Noiz or staring at the stars on the roof with Clear. Yet here I am. Lifeless and broken.  
My fit ends, and Granny leaves me to my own devices, convinced that i'm well. I sit in the floor, sniffling. I don't have the will to move right now, and probably won't until it's time for me to sleep. I've no more tears to shed, or else I'd still be crying. But now everything is fading back to gray, leaving me emotionless except for that never-ending sadness. 

Nothing Cures Hypophrenia. Nothing.


End file.
